Ghost School- part one

I’m at the Houston airport… ready to hop on a plane to London… by myself… for a week.  Aaaaand, I’ll be taking a class in mediumship at a place called Arthur Findlay College. (More to come on this place once I get there in about 12 hours. Also, I still think “ghost school” has a nice ring to it.) But first, guess I should fill in the blanks on how I got to this point, huh?

Alrighty then, let’s start with the story that I should have written down already about my medium class in Houston.   In late 2016, I received an email announcing a class at Spirit Quest, which is one of those stores where they sell all the woohoo goodies like crystals and stuff.  It was going to be taught by a gentleman named David Scott, whom I actually had a reading from years ago in Dallas! (Well, “reading” is subjective, as I hadn’t really needed to hear from any loved ones on the other side, I really just wanted to pick his brain about my first spirit encounter: the nanny/blue hair/yellow Cadillac incident. I had actually seen him twice, the first was an amazing group reading where he gave me messages about my grandmother.) So, I signed up gleefully and went to this four hour class on some late Sunday of last year.
Now, David Scott is all business when it comes to mediumship.  Basically, you’d better prove yourself to the client before you start giving them messages.  EVIDENCE is the key.  And if the details dont match up? Well, the message just isn’t for them then.  Which leads me to the part of the class I wanted to tell you about.  After a few hours of listening to David discuss such matters as the difference between phsychic and medium messages and the physical and astral plane, he asked us if anyone wanted to give it a go… meaning stand up and… be a MEDIUM.
There were only about 6 of us in the class, and nobody was raising their hand right away… so… “OK I’ll go!” This is what I came for, right?
I stood up in front of the small group… mind racing and adrenaline surging… I’m always still so afraid this isn’t going to work! I closed my eyes to try to get into my subconscious space where I can hear/see/feel what Spirit is giving me. I’m sure David gave me some sort of speech to proceed, but all I remember is closing my eyes and having this black blob figure pop up right in front of my face. It was as if my mind’s eye was a movie screen, and someone just popped up right into it from below the projector.  I opened my eyes and told the group excitedly,  “A lady just went “bloop!” right up into my face! (For some reason, it made that sound to me. Bloop! Like a cartoon sound. Ha! And also, I knew it was a lady.)
David encouraged me to get some more information from her. “Good. I feel her here too. Who is she? What does she look like?” I closed my eyes again, and she was now standing further away, so that I could make out her full outline. She was still all black, but not dark with a bad connotation; I just didnt see any features.  Right away I could tell she was short and a bit round, and she was someone’s grandma. Her hair was dark- about shoulder length. She was like a little Italian grandmother.   I also knew she belonged to someone on the far left of the room.
I opened my eyes and shared this information with everyone. At this point my nerves were getting the best of me as they had for much of the class. (David’s overall take away for me all day was “You’ve got to get out of your own way.” Basically, it’s hard for me to stay listening to my subconscious for very long. I keep getting distracted by my surroundings and conscious brain and break the connection with Spirit often.)  David helped me continue, “OK, ask her how she died.”
I closed my eyes again and just repeated that question in my head to the black blobby grandma. (Ha! Sorry.) “How did you die?”
RIGHT AWAY, the word “diabetes” is written out before me (at an angle, interestingly enough. Odd.) I immediately looked at David excitedly, “She showed me the word diabetes!”
This is where David being a medium requiring strict evidence came into play.  “Well, from the woman you described, it sounds like it could be my grandma,” he started. “But it also could be this gentleman’s grandma,” as he pointed to the man next to him. “Both of our grandmas were Italian, short, round, and with shorter black hair, but MINE didn’t die of diabetes. So this woman is NOT here for me,” he stated matter of factly.  “Did yours?” he asked, looking at the other man.
“Yes,” the man affirmed.
WOO HOOO! Perfect! Can I sit down now?  
No. Not so fast.  David pressed, “Does she have a message?”
I concentrated on this for a moment,  and then I just started talking. I just felt like I had a story to tell.  It was as if this spirit grandma had just opened up her mind dumped into my head what she wanted to say. “She says when she was alive she would cook these big elaborate meals and everyone would get together and eat and it made her so happy! But now that she’s gone that isn’t happening anymore. You guys don’t get together anymore.”
Dave took control again and asked the follow up to the man, “Do you understand this? Yes or no?” (That’s another part of being evidence based. The person being read just says yes or no, as to not give anything that could be misconstrued as hints to the medium.)
“Yes, ” the man said.
GREAT! We’re done here, right?  “Ask her to share a memory with you,” David prodded me. Argh. I realized I was going to have to wrap this bad boy up myself. (I guess I wouldn’t end a reading with a real client like that, would I?)  I then asked grandma for a memory and was shown her and a young boy standing at a stove. The boy was on a stool so he could reach the pot that grandma was stirring, she trying to teach her grandson the recipes and techniques she used.  I told the man of this vision, and he turned a bit sad as he recounted that she had wanted to teach him to cook, but he was never interested in learning and always wanted to go play outside.  It was only then that I finally utilized my best learned television-medium-techniques of “letting spirit step away” as I told him that she would just like to see them try to get together again, without her, and then thanked him and sat down.
*****
Now. Back to the ghost school in London part of the post. David Scott, medium teacher extraordinare, studied there. (As did another girl in my class that I will tell you about tomorrow – she’s actually going to this same class too! AyYayYay- I have so much to tell- so little wifi.) Anyway, I literally kept hearing this Arthur Findlay school mentioned over and over again, via numerous sources.  So, I decided to finally listen to what Spirit was trying to tell me…  and GO.  And that brings me here. To the Houston Airport. Where I am about to board a plane to ghost school.  🙂
(I’m literally minutes away from getting on this plane -they are boarding already!- so please forgive the hodgepodge and initial spelling and punctuation errors- I will fix those in a bit but wanted to get this out before I hop on a 10 hour flight. ) More to come tomorrow- hopefully lots of pictures and good stories in store!

A Summers day with Summer

Things have been going. Nothing crazy, but not necessarily nothing either. I’m currently on a plane flying to see my sister in Charlottesville, and with a few hours to myself, I can finally write down a few of the spirit happenings that have happened as of late.  I haven’t been inspired to share much-  But I was probably becoming a bit too complacent with not having any more big experiences, although now I can realize that I haven’t been seeing the beauty of the little things…

Last month, I got a random Facebook friend request from a lovely looking woman named Summer. I checked her profile out, though, and realized we didn’t have any mutual friends… I figured it was some spam deal and denied the request.

The next morning, I now had a message from this Summer gal, saying we had a common friend that said we should meet because we shared some of the same “gifts.” Exciting, yes, but usually when I meet people who say that, their experiences are a little less… concrete, if you will. And that’s ok, I love telling my story, but as I’ve written before- I’ve also been looking for someone I can learn from.
Summer called me right away after I gave her my number. So quickly, in fact, that I showed my husband the incoming call and had the face of “ugh, do we have to do this NOW?” I figured I’d have at least a few hours to think of all the other things I had to do than meet up with a stranger. As he and I looked at each other wide eyed- he suddenly leans over and touched the “answer call” button on my phone screen. Funny guy, that one.

“Hiiiii!” I said with a faked smile. By the end of our conversation, though, the smile was genuine. I wish I could remember and tell you all the cool stuff she shared. She’s like this bundle of confidence and knowledge, and seems to always have some profound saying up her sleeve, ready to pull it out when it’s most needed. “Until you make your subconscious conscious, it will rule your life and you will call it fate,” she proclaimed effortlessly. “Carl Jung said that.” Oh, but she said this when we met for lunch. Yeah, we moved quickly.

Basically, she does what I’m trying to do, but better. I say that because she doesn’t question it. When the info comes to her, she believes it (and sometimes repeats it) without hesitation. She also SEES spirit, which is what happened when her mother was dying from leukemia. She told me the story of when her mother was very ill in a hospital bed earlier this year. Every movement was painful, and she could no longer speak. Summer was sitting next to her mothers bedside when her mom raised her arm and pointed away across the bed. “What do you need? Do you want some water? What can I get you?” she asked, frustrated that she couldn’t seem to help her. Summer said this happened a few times, but she just couldn’t figure it out. Well, a little while later, Summer’s mom started again, but this time, when Summer looked to where she was pointing, she saw… her mother.

Yes. Let’s just pause there for a second.

Her mother’s spirit was now standing bedside, glowing from the light emanating around it. Summer described her as completely healthy again: a head full of hair, bright skinned, and smiling.
She told Summer to please tell her husband that he was making the right decision (they had recently decided to withhold any more treatment) and somehow let Summer know that she wanted to be cremated, not buried (Summer had been struggling with how to proceed once she died.) Summer said she knew at that point that her mothers soul was already prepared to leave the physical body for good, and she was comforted to know that her mom was returning to the vibrant being she was before Leukemia. Her mom died three days later.

Summer told me that one of her biggest fears was that she wouldn’t “feel” her mom around anymore once she died, but that fear was quickly alleviated. She said she does feel her around quite a bit, and that her mom actually showed up to lunch one day! Apparently, Summer was having lunch with a woman who’s mother had also passed, and the two mothers had been friends in life as well. Summer explained that she and her friend were lunching when the two mothers decided to join them. Summer told the girl, “our moms are sitting right here!” Summers mom asked her to give a message to the girlfriend: “please take care of my baby.” (Meaning Summer.) The girlfriend’s jaw dropped as she said, “you’re kidding me! I had a dream two nights ago where your mom came to me and said EXACTLY that, ‘please take care of my baby!’”

Anyway, Summer is a badass. When we met up for lunch we literally chatted for hours. Even after it seemed like we had discussed it ALL, I still kept wracking my brain for something to talk about- something to keep her there. She helped me work through some of the worries I have about this whole process: Am I doing it right? Am I doing it ENOUGH? Should I be afraid!? The best thing I took from our conversation was that is is MY journey, and everyone’s is different, and I need to stop stressing out about it! She explained that “Meditation is an awareness. Give thanks, ask for guidance, use it to re-center,” and then added, “Gratitude is fuel.”
“What you move towards moves towards you.” Seriously, I just want to fold her up and put her in my pocket.

Here’s the fun part… for me anyway. After a few months of not really feeling spirit around, I wasn’t disheartened, but certainly not as enthusiastic about… my skill set. As we were chatting, and out of the blue, Summer quickly slides a ring off of her finger- puts it in my palm- and instructs me, “tell me what you get!”
“Ummmmmm, uhhh!” I didn’t see this coming from fifty miles away, but at the same time, I had been intrigued by the prospect of Psychometry, (which is basically getting your “vibes” from an object) after watching the Hollywood Medium kid do it week after week on TV. 🙂
I closed my eyes and before the ego part of my brain took over,  you’re in a crowded restaurant! You can’t do this here!, two things quickly popped into my head: “grandma” and “rose.” I sat there for about a minute after that, listening and feeding the ego brain, what if I’m wrong? How can I get more info? I can’t. I’m not cut out for this. Oh man, what the hell am I doing here, when I just put the ring back in her hand and said, “yeah… I dunno. All I got was Grandma and Rose.”
“Well, you’re half right,” Summer smiled, “it was my grandmothers ring. But her name wasn’t Rose.”
Oddly enough, I was all of a sudden more confident about what I’d “heard.” “Rose wasn’t necessarily a name, it was more like a symbol,” I told her. I had actually seen a rose at the same time I heard it… just a single white rose.

“A symbol? I wonder what it means? I think it’s something religious!” Summer and I spent the next 15-20 minutes googling and trying to figure out what “rose” meant. She came to the conclusion that it was a sign for me about religion and allowing it to creep into my life a bit more. I wasn’t as convinced, and wrote in my notebook, “Rose symbol? – Jesus?”

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Summer then moved on to how this whole meeting came about. Our friend, Carol, whom we have in common, was dear friends with Summer’s mother, and she was the one who suggested we meet. “So Carol came over to my house after my mom died. She brought me a painting- Did you know Carol was a painter!?!- she brought me this beautiful painting of a rose and….”

I didn’t hear what she said after that. My eyes went into saucer mode and I dramatically laid down on the bench I’d been sitting on as if to underscore the gravity of this. It took her a second…. “oh my god that’s it!!!!!”

We sat there stunned and laughing for a few minutes, with Summer kicking herself she hadn’t figured this out sooner. She finally explained that Carol had brought her a painting- She pulled up a picture on her phone as she explained that there was a big bouquet of roses on her mothers casket. Before she showed me the picture- I said, “what color was the rose?”

“White.”

“Yes!! I saw a white rose!!!!
She then showed me the image- it was a beautiful, very large bouquet of WHITE roses on her mothers casket. But… it was a whole bunch of white roses- and what I saw in my head was only ONE. Maybe a small detail, but I had this quick thought pop in of, that’s not what I saw.

As if on cue, she takes the phone back, messes around with the screen, then hands it back to me with the picture now zoomed onto one single rose near the bottom of the bouquet, “and THIS is the one Carol painted for me.”


I will be having lunch with her again. 🙂
Also, I went to another medium class last weekend and I’m itching to write down what happened and what I learned! That’s coming up next!

Will Paint for “My People”

*(Really quick- before I get into the latest goings on- I just want to sort of set the story straight about being “spiritually stabbed” from my last post. I’ve since heard that story gave a few people the heebie-jeebies and seemed a little frightening.  In hindsight, I probably told the story a little too casually.  So to clarify, I never felt like I was actually being stabbed. The pain in my back was not bad at all, it was just that spirit’s way of letting me know what had happened to him, and certainly wasn’t malicious or evil or scary in any way. To be clear- I have never encountered anything/anyone from the spirit realm that felt even remotely bad, evil, or up to no good.  So far, anyway.)

Alright then- Remember the “Mystical Charms” psychic lady from the store down the road from me? Well, I recently found myself painting her living room. Full on cutting-in, rollers, ladders… the whole deal.  For about three straight hours, in between discussing what part of the wall we may have missed, the lovely Leslie answered every question I could think of about being a psychic medium.

But wait- How did I end up there????  Good question. Thanks for asking.  🙂 Ha!

Last time I blogged-  I wrote about having gone into Leslie’s shop looking for- a mentor, really.  She talked to me for a few minutes- but then basically said she didn’t have time to be a teacher, but that there was spiritual church down the road I should try.  Well… I finally went to that- and I told you I’d tell you about it. You ready for a chuckle?

I showed up at the White Eagle church a few days later in the middle of a weekday afternoon.  I ended up speaking to two lovely older women who seemed interested in what I had to say and why I was there, but not outwardly surprised. They said I needed to talk to the pastor, Jane, but she was unavailable at that moment.  It would be better, they said, if I came back to one of their weekday meditations, and Jane could speak to me afterward.

Now just so we are clear, I had been pinning a lot of hopes on this church. I was crossing every finger that I had found “my people.” I WANTED this to be my answer.  So a few days later I show up around 8:15am, and I am the only vehicle in front of the building. I get out of my car – and what do I hear cutting through the silence of the rural morning? HOWLING WOLVES.  Not one. Not three. Probably not even five. This was MANY MULTIPLE AT LEAST FIVE WOLVES.  HOWLING. (Turns out the founder of the church was also an activist- so the church grounds bordered a wolf sanctuary.)

I proceed to walk into the temple, which is a perfectly round domed room.  As such, the acoustics are… LEGIT. You can hear everything;  A sniffle, a snaffle, a shoe shuffle. (What is a snaffle? I don’t know, but you’d hear it.)  One of the women I had met initially a few days before was sitting in the circle of chairs, eyes closed and already deep in thought- wearing a flowing white robe. She whispered her greetings to me and then politely told me to scoot over, cause that’s where Jane sits.  WHOOPS. I looked around the room for a few minutes nervously while Lady1 would inject a few whispers of explanation of what I was seeing every so often.  Finally, the others showed.  And when I say “others,” I mean two other people. One being the OTHER lady I met a few days ago, and Jane.  All wearing robes.

I tried to shake the Davinci Code vibes and focus on why I was there; To learn how to meditate, and to possibly meet someone who could just tell me what the heck to do. (I also then noticed that I was the only one who hadn’t removed my shoes. Uh Oh. WHOOPSIE again.)

The mediation starts with Lady 1 reading an opening prayer. I couldn’t tell you much of what she was saying- but it was nice, I’m sure.  Lady 1 then starts the mediation. I don’t know what I expected, but it probably wasn’t this.  In our meditation we were led to imagine ourselves walking through beautiful fields to the top of a mountain where we met some very important saints- and then… made our way back down the mountain.  Yes, that’s the overly simplified version. But still, there was no mention of spirit guides, mediumship, or Spirit in the way I was looking for.

When we got down to the bottom of the mountain- there were no further instructions. No- “thank you, we are done.”  No, “see you next week.” No, “how did that make you feel?”  So, I sat there, with my eyes closed, assuming this was now the time for some self reflection and personal mediation.

This is where I should remind you of the acoustics of the room.  You can hear anything right?  Well, maybe not so much. Because after a few minutes of sitting in silence and trying to meditate but at the same time wondering what the heck I’m supposed to be doing next, I do a quick pirate eye to slyly check the room.

AHOY! Gone. They’re all gone. I’m alone.

My stomach drops and all of a sudden I’m really hoping Tom Hanks/Robert Langdon runs into the room and saves me. I actually had to hide my head and let out a “what the F^&*?” chuckle. Right about then I heard a small noise behind the door and caught them peering in at me. I realized they were wondering what the heck was doing! Oh my.  I quickly met up with everyone (all three! Big crowd!) in the hallway.  I thanked them all and lady 1 mentioned that they would love to see me back and maybe someday I’d wear the robes, too (if I wanted, of course.)

I asked Jane if I could speak to her further while she walked to her office, and we started to talk about what her church does, and what I am looking for. I must say- as much as I have made a little fun of the whole experience- these were lovely women. Jane just glows with kindness- and I really really wish it could have been my landing spot.  I would have taken the robes if it meant I had a clear path.  But it was not to be- Jane explained that while they absolutely believe in all the things I was telling her- that their church did not encourage mediumship.  She explained that the only time they allow themselves messages from “beyond” is during their meditation. Other than that – the protective curtain is drawn, so to speak.

I felt like I was back at square one.  I can’t help grieving people like that, can I?  So this church isn’t a fit- Leslie doesn’t have time for mentorship… Oh but wait! I forgot- I could just go pay for a reading from Leslie, right? And I’ll just use that time to get more info from her!

So off I go- back to Mystical Charms. “Hi! I’d like to set up a reading with Leslie.”

“Ohhh. We aren’t setting up any appointments until after the 10th,” her husband tells me.  (He runs the store while she does the readings) “We have a rental property we have do a lot of work in. Leslie is going to be painting it before the new tenants move in.”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Then, LIGHT BULB. “I can paint.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“I can paint! I will go over there and help her paint if she will just talk to me while I’m doing it! Here- I’ll give you my phone number.”

“Uhhh- ok. I’ll give her the message.”

The next afternoon, I got the call.  She gave me her address and two days later- there I was- helping Leslie paint.

I took it all in. 3 hours seemed like 30 minutes.  She reiterated the need for meditation. She taught me what to say to “protect” myself. She even told me what I need to say to my spirit guides, because lately, I haven’t been hearing them.

“Meditate and ask your guides to show you what the next step is.”  Alright, will do.

“Make sure you are listening to what Spirit and your Guides saying because if they are trying to talk to you and you keep on not listening, they may just stop trying.”  Oh no! Ok! Listening! 

“You can’t let EGO get in the way. It’s not about YOU. Ask them for forgiveness if you’ve been putting yourself first.”  Have I? Man, I’ve tried not to. But maybe..? To be sure, you can bet I’m gonna ask for forgiveness.

We went over many things- mostly small little detailed questions- mediums on TV, how different spirits communicate, how spiritualism is a much more accepted thing in Scotland so they can freely talk about it there, and children aren’t taught to suppress their gifts (as much as here, anyway.) One of the more interesting tid-bits for me was when she talked about manipulating energy.  (The medium in Houston talked about this too.) Basically, the simplified version is that you can both put ideas in people heads and also sort of make things happen.  She gave me an excercise to do: light a candle and view it through the reflection of a mirror. Concentrate on the various changing colors of the flame, and then mentally try to view the flame as all one color.  It may take a few tries, but it supposedly teaches you how to start to manipulate energy.  (Yes, I know this is a jump. Just go with me on this one. I’ll let you know when I master it. 🙂

I also asked her about those who are on the other side who had committed suicide. Did she find that there was a period of time where they couldn’t really communicate with her?  I started giving her the example of a woman I had spoke with who’s daughter had died. The mother was unsure if her daughter had taken her own life or if the daughters death was actually at the hands the boyfriend.  (In this instance- I had a very hard time getting any messages from this particular spirit. She had gotten my attention enough that I set up a meeting with her mother- but I never actually heard or saw her. She just basically made me “feel” things.) As I’m telling Leslie this, Leslie stops me with a question and an inquisitive look on her face- “was this recent?”

“Yes.”

“No. The boyfriend didn’t do it.  He could have stopped her, but he didn’t.”

I about jumped out of my skin- “that’s exactly what I told her!”  I was all at once again sad for this mother’s loss, in awe of what I was watching Leslie do, and reassured that what I had told the mother had been correct.  (I have thought about posting that particular story, but it was such an anomaly for me that I was kind of unsure about the whole thing- it was all based on how the daughter’s spirit made me feel- nothing evidential- and I had left it with the mother that we could try again down the line.)

As we were finishing up, Leslie admitted to me that she gets a lot of requests for guidance. That I’d be surprised at how many people walk into her store that have had experiences and don’t know what do about it.  She also told me that normally, she would have never taken me up on my offer, but that “something” told her to call me.   She thanked me more than once for actually doing the work (and not just talking while she painted) and told me she owed me “hours” of mentoring!  YAHOO!

As for today?  I will ask my guides to forgive my ego, ask them to show me the next step, and make damn sure I’m listening to them from now on. But,  I’m wondering if I don’t have this manipulating energy thing down a little bit already… I mean- I did get Leslie to teach me, right? And  I think I may have found my “person.”

“Isn’t it nice to know you aren’t crazy?” Part 2

I may have been sidetracked by the Mystical Charms store I just told you about, but I do have that one more pretty darned good story to tell.

Lets start a couple of months ago, when an acquaintance of mine, Gina, made a passing comment to me, “You know I’ve had a lot of tragedy in my family… Someday when I’m ready you can give me a reading…” We all kind of chuckled, because it was just one of those off the cuff things people say.  Not that the tragedy part was funny, just that the last thing I/we thought I’d be doing was readings for people. So it was kind of like, “Yeah, right! haha!”

Cut to a few weeks later. I’m driving along when all of a sudden it hit me out of nowhere. I needed to text Gina, now. I immediately pulled out my phone, “Siri, text Gina.”

“What do you want to say to Gina?”

“Gina comma this might sound weird period can we get together and do a reading question mark”

Siri sent the message, and a few seconds later I get “Thanks but I’m not really ready for that just yet. I’ll let you know when I am, though. ”

At this point, I physically felt like I was going to burst. It felt like I had a million things to say but couldn’t. (Just to be clear, I didn’t have anything to say, this was coming from someone else.)  So I sent another text. “Well, YOU may not be ready but THEY are.”

Again, Gina replied, “I’m really not ready yet. Talk to you later, bye!”

 

Ummmmmm, Ok. Hmmm. Now what? I knew I was going to see her the next day, but I didn’t want to come across as the overbearing spirit girl. She had clearly said she wasn’t ready.  So that night, I lay down in bed and decided before I went to sleep that I was going to just put the question out there.

“Whoever has a message for Gina, she obviously doesn’t want to hear it. But I’m going to see her tomorrow… What should I do?” Right away, my breathing became faster and my heart rate climbed. A blast of anxiety hit me from nowhere. Right after, I had a sharp pain in my back, just below my shoulder blade. At first I thought it was weird, but mentally dismissed it as… I dunno, an air bubble in my lung? Is that even a thing? But as soon as I processed the air bubble thought, another one flew into my head. This time, It was like my spiritual jaw dropped open and I mentally said, “Did you get STABBED?!?”

After I asked, all the pain and the fast breathing just faded away. A feeling of knowing came over me. I said, “Ok. Let me see what I can do.”

The next morning I saw Gina. We were in a large group of people so it took a while before I could say something to her without looking stalker-esque.  But finally I worked up the nerve… “I just want you to know, I know you said you aren’t ready- but if someone has a message for you, it won’t be anything bad.”

“Oh I know,” Gina happily pronounced. “I’m good with all of it right now. No need to fix what isn’t broke.”

“I understand.” And of course I couldn’t help myself, “It’s just that last night as I was going to bed I got this sharp pain in my back and”

Gina cut me off. “Yep, that’s what happened.”

“Did he get stabbed?”

“Yep. That’s what happened. I’ve never told ANYONE how he died. Wow. How did you know that?”

She knew what I was going to say as I nervously laughed, “like I said, he SHOWED me!”

Here’s another interesting tidbit before I keep going- you might be wondering why I started referring to the spirit as “he.” Well, I can’t tell you when exactly, but at some point, I just knew this was her brother.  I think I knew that night before when he spirit stabbed me, but when I said it to her the next day, it just came out naturally. It wasn’t even a question for me. We both knew exactly who we were talking about.

Gina then went on to give me some details about her brother.  He was stabbed something like 11 times, but the doctor said he was likely gone by the third.  Right then I started feeling like, the person who did this was REALLY angry. (now yes, I can step aside and agree that any normal person could deduce that anyone who stabs someone 11 times is off the charts pissed, but this was different. In hindsight, I felt like I had to SAY it.) “Whoever did this was REALLY angry,” I told her.  She continued on, explaining that the guy who did it got off by claiming self-defense.

Her brother’s killer wasn’t even in jail.

Her brother was, though, apparently into some bad things, one of which was “keeping” a woman. I didn’t get the full details of what that meant exactly, but as it turns out, the man who killed Gina’s brother was this woman’s son.

(insert wide-eyed emoji here.)

This is where it gets crazy: I hear “I don’t blame him.”

Now, I was NOT expecting to just outright HEAR something from her brother. (I mean, I hadn’t even asked! And my eyes weren’t closed in meditation mode!)  I repeated this to her with a stunned look on my face, “He just said he doesn’t blame him,” but I was so taken aback that my eyes filled with tears and I scooted off to the side so I wouldn’t attract any attention. I gave her the come hither hand, and went on, “He says he had every right to be angry, and that he doesn’t blame him for what he did.”

Gina sat in silence for a few seconds and then matter of factly stated, “Well if HE doesn’t blame him, I guess I shouldn’t either.”

“That’s it! That’s the message!” I told her eagerly.

“Wow! Well, that wasn’t so bad. I guess we can get together now and do a reading.”

I chuckled and told her, “Honey, we just DID!”:)

 

“Isn’t it nice to know you aren’t crazy?” Part 1

To be honest, I’ve struggled to get this next blog post out.  It’s not because I don’t have a good story to tell, it’s just that… because after that story… not a lot has happened. A spiritual dry spell, if you will. It’s like this pit of fear in my stomach that once I tell this last story, that I might not get another. “Will it all shut down again?  Will I go another 15 years of silence ? Will I not have any more contact with the spirit world until I get there myself?”

I decided, then, I need to be a little more proactive if I want the stories to continue. I knew a good place to start would be meditation.  But how?  I mean, the more you read about it, the more you know you don’t know, you know?  I ended up going with the first thing that popped up in my Sonos search; A whole series of podcasts about starting to meditate.

The first was an 18 minute episode that ended in unguided meditation. When it was over – I sat there for a few more minutes – staring at the candle flame it had instructed me to light (uh oh, The “woo woo” is starting!) when all of a sudden it just hit me.  I needed to go talk to the lady at the store down the street.

Now – a little back story on the “lady at the store down the street.”  Every so often, I go get my pool water checked at a pool store a couple of miles away. And every time I have gone there, the little “mystical charms” store next-door has been closed. (Not that I really had any interest in it at all; it’s in a gnarly little strip mall and a sign in her cluttered/dusty window says “psychic readings available.” I always figured it was the ugly stepsister to a gaudy neon “Palm Readings” sign.

This time, it was open.

I walked in and a cute blond cherubic woman with a New York affected Scottish accent welcomes me.  “Hi I’m just finishing up my lunch, my husband can help you find what you need.”

“Actually, I think I need to talk to you.”

With that, I started giving her the fastest version of my story I’ve ever given.  Although, I don’t think I got much past “some lady’s son took over my body” and she guided me behind some curtains to her special seating area for readings. She looked relaxed and casual and finished her soup as I told her the major details of my situation.   (It’s always such an odd thing to repeat my experiences to someone of… like mind. You don’t get any of the “holy crap!” reactions with these kinds of people. Instead, they just nod their heads knowingly because they’ve seen it all before.)

Initially, this woman kept repeating the point that I need to know how to protect myself.  Not just from spirits with less than good intent, but sometimes, from everything.  She talked about how important it was to be able to shut them out entirely, if only to protect ones sanity.   She echoed what the Houston medium had told me before, that it’s usually wiser just to “ask them what they want to communicate versus letting them jump into your body.” But she also added that if you were okay with the latter, that it’s OK to say, “alright.  But you’ve only got five minutes, buddy.”

I asked her about her craft, and she told me that she does energy and medium work.  (Still don’t know what “energy” work is exactly… I guess that will be a future post.) “So how do you choose how to read a person when they come in?” I wondered.

“Sometimes, you’ll have the person they want to connect with just standing there staring at you not saying anything. And I have to tell this person that their loved one is here- but silent. So, that’s when I turn to the energy work -tarot cards and reading palms- to get the message.”   It was then that I noticed the deck of tarot cards in front of me.   (I guess I’ve finally resigned myself to look into the “woo woo” stuff. Yes, including crystals.)

She also told me that I needed to ask myself, “What do I want to do with this gift?” and then glanced over to a paper she had pinned up on a back wall that I could faintly make out through the sheer curtain. It was about her- a full-page glowing article from a newspaper in Scotland from years ago. She told me she was fairly famous back then, and could have commanded outrageous fees for her readings. When this didn’t sit well with her, she walked away. She explained, “it’s not a gift you can abuse, because those who get greedy with it will lose it.”  She said she finally learned later it was OK to charge for her services, as long as she needed the money to keep going. So now, she charges $30 for a reading, however long it takes.  (I’m not planning on posting  a Paypal button on my blog, don’t worry.  I told her that I already had thought this over: I have no desire for a TV show, no desire to charge $500 for a reading. I just want this magical thing to continue, and hopefully I can share it and help people in the process.)   The reason I mention the fee, though, is because she had also commented to me that she was not in a position to be a teacher for me… that she just couldn’t take that on right now. (Initially I was a bit heartbroken. I can’t tell you how many times I tried to get my soul to just twist her soul’s arm into wanting to be my mentor.)  But now I was devising a plan… You’re telling me I can get a master class for $120 month?  “So, I could just book you for a ‘reading” every week and pick your brain?!”   SIGN ME UP! haha!

(Oh! I almost forgot to mention- she didn’t just blow me off. She DID have an alternate plan for me… apparently there is a SPIRITUALIST church not far from here.  WAIT, WHAT?!?!  And it’s… like, CLOSE.  How did I not know about this place?! Why didn’t anyone tell me this before?!  And then I remember, I live in small town-ish Texas. The people who DO know aren’t probably talking about it much with the normal folk. 😉 So Sunday, I’m going. And I expect to have full details to you quickly thereafter!)

Anyway- by then her soup was finished, and she was giving me a look like she had other things to do.  I thanked her profusely and proceeded to look around her shop. The amount of supplies was endless: A gazillion different crystals, incense out the wazoo, 50 decks of tarot cards (all different), and this:

IMG_2046
Tibetan Singing Bowl

Tada! Finally got one of these Tibetan singing bowls I’ve been coveting.  I wish I could tell you more about them, but I don’t know much yet. I just think they are NEATO. 🙂

 

As I was finishing up the transaction, the husband says, “Isn’t it nice to know you aren’t crazy?”  I sighed,

“I’m not worried about crazy anymore, I’m worried about lonely.”

My new mentor (Shhh! she doesn’t know that yet) then chimed in- “There are many places you can find people who are like us.” She listed off a few events in Houston, and an upcoming psychic fair.. but also added, “But even then, you still might feel out of place. This IS lonely and you ARE going to have to do a lot of it by yourself. Read books, practice, ask for help from your guides… ultimately everyone’s journey is different.”

I thanked her and walked out, finally pretty confident that I’ll have some more stories to tell.